


Fourth Down and One

by Waldo



Category: Common Law
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, Episode Tag, Episode: s01e05 The T Word, Family Issues, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-25
Updated: 2012-12-25
Packaged: 2017-11-22 08:28:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/607827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waldo/pseuds/Waldo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Travis can't believe Wes is jealous of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fourth Down and One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tommygirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tommygirl/gifts).



Wes was still finishing his report on the Baby-Faced robbery group.  There was something about the description in the second to last paragraph that wasn’t sitting right.  It was factual enough, but it didn’t read right.  He erased the last sentence and tried it again.  He was about six words in when he was hit in the ear with something small and light.

 

He glanced down at his desk to see a little paper football on his blotter.  He didn’t even look up at his partner as he snagged it and threw it back.  He immediately went back to work on his computer, pulling up a website to remind him of the proper uses of _lay_ vs. _lie_.  Was the guy _laying_ on the ground or _lying_ on the ground while he was handcuffed?  For as often as it seemed he had to explain this, he couldn’t figure out why he had to look it up each and every time.

 

He found his word and plugged it into his report and as he began to start typing in earnest again he noticed that Travis wasn’t moving.  He wasn’t working on anything and he wasn’t looking for another way to cause trouble.  Wes tore his eyes away from his screen to see what on Earth could keep Travis Marks so still.

 

He rolled his eyes and accepted the inevitable as he saw that Travis had cued up the little paper football again and as soon as he was sure he had Wes’ attention, he flicked the football off his desk, where it landed neatly on Wes’ desk without hitting him.  Travis was clearly convinced that he had his partner’s attention this time.

 

Wes looked up from the little triangle to meet Travis’ eyes.  Travis looked pointedly down at the football.  When Wes looked down he could see the words ‘ _read me_ ’ penciled in in the tiniest letters ever.

 

He sighed and leaned back in his chair and unfolded the football.

 

 

> _never be jealous of my foster families.  you had a real one.  maybe it was just you and your mom and dad, but you never had to worry about some social worker showing up and taking them away from you._

 

Wes sighed as he folded the note up and tucked it into his desk drawer.  He steepled his fingers and leaned his elbows on the edge of his desk.  This whole therapy assignment was starting to grate on his nerves.  It got harder and harder for him to stay mad at Travis for the stupid shit he did when he had even the slightest understanding of why he did it.

 

He tried three or four times to say something, but the busy squad room just didn’t seem like the place.  He pulled the note back out, flipped it over and wrote a response.  He folded it back into the football and flicked it back at his partner with the off-hand comment, “You allergic to capital letters or something?”

 

He turned back to his screen, giving the appearance of looking over what he’d written as he surreptitiously watched his partner unfold the paper and smooth it back out.

 

 

> **Sometimes the best family is the one you make for yourself.**

 

 

 


End file.
